A Moment of Weakness
by Ondjage
Summary: The Warden's life hangs in the balance, and tensions are on the rise among some of the party members... two of them in particular. Implied Leliana/FemPC. Oneshot.


"This is all _your _fault."

Had the tone been any lower Morrigan might not have heard it. She spun her head around and ceased her relentless pacing to glance up at whoever had spoken; although she had an idea. Leliana was standing only several meters away, sporting an expression that was anything but friendly. In fact, at that exact moment Morrigan actually found the annoying Chantry sister just a tad bit _frightening._

"Excuse me?" she said finally, rounding fully on Leliana. Leliana's face darkened even more, if that were possible at this point. She took several provocative steps forward before coming to a stop, just inches away from Morrigan's face.

"You heard me," Leliana hissed. Morrigan noticed the hands clenched at the girl's side. Those smoldering blue eyes of hers, glazed with unshed tears, glared at her with utter contempt. Morrigan's composure suddenly found itself fading into obscurity, and not because of Leliana's petty attempt at looking fierce, but because her words rang true.

"I've no control over her actions. 'Tis she who… got in the way…"

"_Got in the way?_" Leliana repeated incredulously. "Got in the way?" Her scowl deepened, brow furrowing. If looks could kill…

"You-… You ungrateful _bitch_! She saved your wretched life! She has risked her life countless times for you! She killed your mother without question when you asked her to… You would be the one hanging on a by a thread were it not for Lyna, and all you have to say for yourself is that she_ got in the way?_" Leliana was simply livid now, her normally pale cheeks rivaling the fiery intensity of her hair.

Morrigan opened her mouth to retort, only to close it in wordless confusion. The damn bard was… right. _She _should have been the one lying incapacitated in that tent. _She _should have been the one with arrows protruding from her chest. _She _should have been the one dying… not Lyna. So then, the question that racked her mind now; why was that not the case? Why _had _that foolish elf dove in front of her? The thought put a wrinkle in her brow. It just… made no sense at all, to be frank. She had never been particularly kind to the Warden. While they both shared similar views, on a number of different subjects, they were also very unaccustomed to socializing with other people or functioning in polite society; and Morrigan's barbed tongue did little to help matters. Despite that however, Lyna still referred to her as a sister. A _sister _of all things!

"I never asked for this," Morrigan finally croaked, voice coming out far quieter than obviously intended. She returned the glare Leliana insisted on shooting her. _No_. She would _not _be blamed for this. Lyna had done what she had entirely of her own volition and nothing more. Morrigan had no magical pull on her. She had set no charms. There had been no bewitching of the sort. How _could _this be her fault?

"T'was her decision to save me. I did not _ask _her to risk her life. This… this is no fault of mine!"

"Why? Why would she save someone as self-centered and cruel as _you!_?" The insult lacked finesse, but it struck a nerve regardless. Morrigan bristled angrily, raising a clawed index finger and poking it sharply into Leliana's chest.

"Listen, you self-righteous Chantry lap-dog, you cannot blame me for this. Lyna could have let the arrows strike me, but for whatever damned reason, she chose not to... so this is her fault, not mine! This insipid thing you call _love _is likely to blame. A month ago she would have never done such a thing. I refuse to stand by any longer while you throw irrational accusations at me. If what you seek is someone to blame, it might as well be yourself, bard! Now,_ leave me be!_"

No sooner had the words left her mouth had Leliana flung upon her, curling gloved fingers tightly around Morrigan's neck. Morrigan toppled backwards, evidently caught off guard. The bard straddling her pressed down with all of her might, as though she were trying to… _kill her?_

"_How dare you!" _The enraged, shriek-like cry stung Morrigan's ears like salt to a fresh wound. Her head sank into the dirt, the bewildered protests she attempted to stammer off coming out in barely audible gasps. The moment her lungs started to burn was the moment Morrigan managed to bring an electrically charged hand to press against Leliana's chest. The sudden jolt of magic sent Leliana sprawling backwards, gripping at her burned leathers. Morrigan was quick to clamber to her feet, gasping for air.

Leliana's hand flicked to one of the daggers strapped to her side, and Morrigan managed to compose herself and reach for her gnarled staff. If the crazed Orlesian wanted a fight, Morrigan would gladly oblige.

"What in the name of the Maker is going on here?" Came the confused voice of Alistair, rushing toward them with his sword drawn. Leliana motioned to lunge again, but Zevran was quick to intervene, materializing from seemingly nowhere. He situated himself directly between the bard and witch, placing a hand firmly on either one of their shoulders. Alistair arrived shortly thereafter; though Morrigan's gaze remained fixed solely on Leliana, her body tense and poised for battle. Morrigan would not be caught unaware a second time.

"Out of my way Zevran!" Leliana growled between pants. Zevran simply shook his head, and Leliana's withering glare did not seem to waver his steely resolve in the slightest.

"Is this really the time for you two to be tearing each other apart?" His eyes hardened as he shot either of them a practiced and perfected look of disappointment. Both women huffed, heads cast down in shame. Morrigan rubbed her bruised neck tenderly.

"T'was the bard who started it," remarked Morrigan irritably, hand still fiercely clutching her staff. "Her emotional tirade-"

"Shut up Morrigan," Alistair cut in icily, causing Morrigan to once again bristle indignantly. She should have expected him to be angry at her. No one loathed her more than that fool Templar. Of course _he_ would side with the delusional Chantry girl. Seeing reason was beyond them!

Alistair placed a hand on Leliana's shoulder.

"It's alright, Leliana," he offered gently. "We've done all we can. It's up to Lyna now." Zevran confirmed Alistair's statement with a grave nod. Leliana was trembling now, rage flickering out and giving way to exhaustion. She stumbled forward, and the only thing preventing her from falling were Alistair's arms. The tears she had been desperately fighting back now flowed freely, staining wet trails down her cheeks. The dagger she had been holding clambered uselessly to the ground.

Morrigan felt a tiny stab of _something _at that very moment. It was a feeling she had never quite felt before in her entire life, in fact. She wasn't sure what to make of it. Even though she loathed Leliana for more reasons than one, she felt a pang of _guilt,_ and a little something else, at the sight before her. For a moment she mistook it for pity, until it dawned on Morrigan that two people might very well be lost that evening, and she would feel partially responsible; because she had acted brazenly, and with little regard for her companions. Morrigan snorted at the thought, but couldn't quite put her heart into it. _Feelings_ were a crippling weakness. The crumpled figure in the Templar's arms was a sure sign of that... and yet...

"I…-"

Morrigan stepped forward uncertainly, outstretching a tentative and trembling hand.

"I am…"

_Love is foolish…_

"Sorry," she finally breathed, and it was as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders at the admission. She blatantly ignored the glare Alistair shot her, as well as the curious stare from Zevran. Her feet and arms had developed a mind of their own as she closed the distance between herself and Leliana. "I am sorry," she timidly murmured again, voice cracking slightly.

_...surrounded by fools._

She awkwardly placed a hand on Leliana's shoulder, causing all eyes to fall upon her. Ignoring them was effortless, as her entire attention was now focused on Leliana, who meekly lifted her head and locked her red-rimmed gaze with Morrigan's. Something in those blue eyes struck a cord within Morrigan, and caused a stabbing pain to ignite beneath her chest. She practically winced.

"You were right. 'Tis… 'tis my fault… I… s-sorry…" Words failed her, and she was forced to duck her head in distress, focusing her gaze anywhere but upon the bewildered group before her. She _couldn't _bare to look at them. She had opened up to them, shown a vulnerable side! This was utterly _disastrous_. What was she doing?

_This is pathetic. I…_

"_Oh!_"

When Leliana wrapped her arms around Morrigan's waist, the witch instinctively stiffened in response, eyes wide with what must have looked like a mixture of terror and surprise. Her body seemed to react involuntarily from that point on however, for her muscles steadily began to relax. The tension in her posture was still there though, as was the confusion. She could scarcely remember the last time she had ever _truly _been embraced by another? _Had she ever? _People never got this close to her, not unless they longed for an early grave, that is._  
_

Leliana buried her face into Morrigan's chest, and Morrigan could feel the wetness of tears soaking through her clothing.

"F-forgive me...I did not… I did not m-mean what I said," Leliana stammered between sobs, tilting back her head to look up at a bewildered Morrigan. "_I just_…"

"I understand," Morrigan replied quietly, unable to think of anything more appropriate. Her hands trembled at her side, unsure of what to do. Perhaps she should just allow Leliana to hold her? She needed that; she might have even _wanted _it. She would never admit it aloud but some part of her, that she had presumed long ago buried, desperately _needed_ this. With a sigh tinged in exhaustion, Morrigan placed her hand on Leliana's head; neither of them speaking another word. When Morrigan finally lifted her gaze, she caught a glimpse of Alistair and the sad smile that claimed his stupid face. Zevran too beheld the same vexing expression, causing Morrigan to scowl at them both.

"Don't worry, Morrigan," Alistair said softly as he spun around and headed back toward Lyna's tent. "We won't tell a soul."


End file.
